


Let the Poison Out

by mariothellama



Series: Robert and Marco [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 05:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8358613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/pseuds/mariothellama
Summary: Robert and Marco are lovers and business rivals. Sometimes they have to find a way to deal with their professional rivalry and not let it poison their relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/gifts), [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/gifts).



> My dear Blue_Night. Well I warned you. I was all set to write some sweet Götzeus fluff today. They were even running together in the morning mist today. So romantic! But instead I wrote this. And now you will know why I have issues with these two because I can only see ever them like this, black, twisted and painful.
> 
> Dear Janie94. I hope you don't mind me gifting this short work to you, even though it is AU and just Robert/Marco. I have had this idea in my head for a while and it was your 'Let the Right One In' that made me think actually about writing it. And since it is obvious that I have ... um ... what you might call unresolved issues when it comes to these two, it is a tribute to just how much I admire your writing and your story telling that I love your unsual Robert/Thomas/Marco trio stories so much.

Marco’s hand clenched tightly round the stem of champagne glass he was holding as he fought to keep his false smile firmly in place. Marco knew he looked good, his dark grey hand-made suit fitted him perfectly, the jacket skimming his narrow, finely-muscled shoulders, the trousers hugging his pert, taut buttocks. He saw how women – and some of the men – looked at him. More than anything he saw _him_ looking at him from across the room, snatching glances when _he_ thought Marco wasn’t paying attention. But Marco saw and felt every touch of _his_ eyes like acid burning on his skin.

This wasn’t Marco’s real smile, the one that lit up his entire face and reached the corners of his eyes. Inwardly Marco’s stomach was churning, hot and boiling with misery and hatred, the poisonous bile rising in his throat and threatening to choke him. But he remained professional, smiling and chatting as he circuited the room, exchanging pleasantries with clients and colleagues as if nothing was wrong, when really all he wanted to do was to go out onto the balcony and scream his pain into the night sky over Munich. He fought that impulse, even though he was now clutching the stem of his glass hard enough to snap it in two.

Marco remembered the early days, when he and Robert Lewandowski had worked at the same firm of investment bankers. They had been young and wildly successful, but then Robert had left, had moved to their biggest rival because it offered greater possibilities and he was hungry for success. The truth was that Marco couldn’t blame him, had understood exactly what had motivated Robert. But he had stayed, had stayed loyal, and the years which followed had driven a wedge between them. Marco’s firm was incredibly successful and he had become a very wealthy man, rich beyond the dreams of most. But they could never compete with Robert’s company, would never have the investment capital that they had, would never be able to attract the personnel that they could.

That was why it hurt so badly every time he went up against Robert’s firm for a contract or a big deal and lost. It wasn’t the losing. OK, maybe a little bit, Marco was deeply competitive after all or he couldn’t survive in this field of work. But much more it was losing to _him_. Even worse, it was the knowledge deep inside that he was never really able to compete with _him_ , that there would never, ever be a level playing field.

So Marco continued to circulate the room, pretending that nothing was wrong, while inside his soul was screaming in agony. Until at last he felt _his_ hand on his elbow ....

***

Robert drove home in complete silence, not saying a single word to the passenger sitting beside him.

As soon as he had shut the door of the penthouse flat behind them, Robert pushed Marco against the wall, kissing him roughly and aggressively, thrusting his tongue into Marco’s mouth without waiting for permission, attacking the soft, sensitive skin inside. Robert used the weight and force of his own body to trap Marco hard in place against the wall, with a hand clenched tightly in Marco’s soft hair, holding him completely immobile. He could feel the sharp lines of Marco’s hipbones pressing into him, the outline of Marco’s belt buckle cutting into his stomach, the pressure of the hard bulge growing inside Marco’s suit trousers. Robert pressed his groin ever more firmly against Marco, enjoying the cleansing pain from grinding against each other.

He wrenched off Marco’s tie, pulled the neck of his shirt to one side and sank his teeth into the vulnerable flesh, biting, sucking and licking. This would hurt and leave a mark, but Robert didn’t care and anyway it would be hidden by Marco’s shirt collar tomorrow. There was a short yelp of surprised pain from Marco, followed by a low moan of desire.

Robert’s free hand found its way to Marco’s crotch, roughly pressing and squeezing until he started to whine loudly.

‘Turn round,’ Robert growled hoarsely, using the opportunity to pull off Marco’s shirt and jacket, tossing them carelessly to the ground. Marco was shivering and shaking in anticipation right now, his breathing rough and ragged with his arousal. Robert longed to kiss Marco’s neck and shoulders, to worship his beautiful body with his mouth and tongue, to give him pleasure rather than cause him pain, but this was not the right time. Instead he reached round to undo Marco’s belt and the fastenings of his trousers, yanking his briefs and trousers down to the ankles and kicking Marco’s legs as wide apart as they could go within the restraints of his clothing.

‘Brace yourself! You’re going to need it,’ he ordered. Marco’s only response was a wild groan born of desperate need.

While Marco braced himself against the wall, Robert undressed as quickly as possible, before giving Marco two of his fingers to suckle.

‘Suck on these. Get them as wet as possible if you know what is good for you.’

Robert groaned. Marco sucking on his fingers felt so good. Marco wasn’t just getting his fingers wet, he was licking, sucking and caressing them as if they were Robert’s cock in his mouth and Robert could just imagine the beatific, ecstatic expression on his face. Robert so wished that this didn’t turn him on, but the sensation of Marco sucking his fingers combined with the feeling of his cock pressed against Marco’s back was incredibly arousing.

‘That’s enough now,’ he snarled, before the pleasure became too much for him to stay in the role Marco needed him to play right now.

His fingers were wet with saliva as he thrust them into Marco, who hissed sharply at the sudden intrusion. Robert longed to be able to caress the muscled curves of Marco’s ass, to be able to drop to his knees and tenderly open Marco with his tongue. But that wasn’t what Marco craved right now and giving Marco what he needed was only thing that mattered to Robert. He moved his fingers inside Marco, spreading them wide to open him. This wasn’t about arousing Marco, not that he had to further arouse a panting and quivering Marco, but about being able to fuck him as quickly as possible.

‘Ready!’ And this was not a question from Robert, but a warning.

Robert thrust himself into Marco as hard and as far as he could. Marco was tight, so tight that the pressure round Robert’s cock was almost painful. And the angle made it feel even tighter. If they hadn’t made love hundreds of times before, if Robert didn’t know every inch of his beloved Marco’s body in such intimate perfection, he wasn’t sure if this would even be possible. But this wasn’t making love. He was fucking Marco, hard and raw, giving him what he so desperately needed. Robert set up a steady rhythm, fingers curled tightly over Marco’s hipbones and digging into the flesh, shifting Marco’s hips slightly so that he could thrust against his prostrate with every stroke, in the full knowledge that this would be almost unbearably painfully pleasurable. Marco moaned uncontrollably, a guttural, animal edge to his voice.

After a few minutes of this, Robert felt that Marco was close, felt his legs starting to shake. He clasped one hand over Marco’s braced against the wall, their fingers tightly interlaced. At the last moment he took his other hand from Marco’s hip, holding Marco’s cock safe and secure in his hand as he spurted his release all over Robert’s fingers.

It was Robert’s strength, standing tall and firm, that held Marco close and tight through the powerful orgasm that wracked and convulsed his body while Marco howled like a wounded animal. Robert wished this wouldn’t make him come, he hated taking pleasure from this, but the tightness of Marco round him, the feeling of his walls clenching and contracting round him pulled Robert’s unwilling orgasm from him.

They stood there for a moment, panting and breathless with the exertion and the force of their mutual climaxes. Marco’s hands were still braced against the wall while Robert embraced him from behind. And then Marco stated to cry. Silently, only the slight shaking of his shoulders betraying his emotion. But Robert knew that his cheeks would be wet with tears, hot, painful tears of shame and frustration. Of everything that had happened tonight, this was the part that Robert hated most. But he knew that this was Marco’s real release, not the powerful orgasm he had just experienced. That had just been the catalyst which allowed Marco to let out the emotions that otherwise had to stay suppressed deep inside him.

When Marco was finally at peace, he would take him to bed and they would hold each other close in the intimate darkness. And then they would make love for real and this time Marco would come buried deep inside Robert, their love and their relationship healed. But first the poison had to come out. The poison that would otherwise fester inside Marco, blackening and destroying his bright, beautiful soul and turn their relationship into a barren desert where no flowers could bloom.

Then he heard the words that made everything worth it, that made his world right again and put a smile back on his face.

‘Thank you, Robert. For everything.’

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fighting back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499970) by [GoForGoals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/pseuds/GoForGoals)




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